Stuck On You
by I am Frankenteen
Summary: Harry loves to doodle on his sticky notes. Usually he gathers the wasted paper to use as amo against Ron. Except for one. One that Malfoy ends up finding. Through the anonymous notes, the two begin an unusual friendship, that quickly turns into more.
1. The Start Of It All

**Disclaimer: **No matter how hard I stalk J.K Rowling, she stil won't give me her characters. So for now, I'm stuck with borrowing them.

**Summary:**

Harry loves to doodle on his sticky notes. Usually he gathers the wasted paper to use as amo against Ron. Except for one. One that Malfoy ends up finding. Through the anonymous notes, the two begin an unusual friendship, that quickly turns into more.

Enjoy!

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Draco Malfoy slowly lowered his head to his desk, as to not attract any attention. Why was he still awake? He shifted slightly, trying to get a better position to follow his fellow classmates into slumber until he realised it was pointless with the mess of papers, loosely laying across his desk.

He sighed almost inaudibly for the thousandth time and straightened. Quickly swiping his arm over the desk, Draco made to lay back down. Yet before his forehead could make contact with the cool, enticing surface of the work table, he noticed one small, square-shaped, stubborn piece of grey paper still forbidding Draco the allusive, and alluring aspect of rest. Angrily, the young wizard picked up the small note, intent on crumpling it up and throwing it into the trash. Before he could though, his curiosity took over.

Scrawled on the note, in messy, bored handwriting, were the words:_ "Does anyone even take this class other than for a nice nap?"_

Malfoy chuckled silently to himself before digging through his bag in search of his own, green, sticky notes.

~HPDM~

"_Granger?" _

That's what was written on the emerald green sticky note, now sitting in place of the grey one Harry had placed on the counter a day earlier. The writing was neat and controlled, with the exception of the punctuation, which had a slight waver to it, as if the writer hadn't wanted to stop with just one word. Harry looked at the note for a moment more before pulling out his out notes and quickly checking to make sure his professor wasn't interested in what he was doing. He hadn't expected an answer when he started writing random sticky notes addressed to no one. Although, he already knew the answer to his responders question.

"She may have signed up with good intentions, but her actions are severely lacking in over-achiever category."

At the moment, Hermione had her arms perched daintily underneath her as she slept soundly. Harry snorted, looking at the figure next to Hermione. A very noisy red head dreamt beside her. Although, where Hermione had the foresight to balance her textbook in a way that might seem as if she were actually reading it, Ron had decided to use his as a pillow. A thoroughly drool-drench pillow at that.

Harry looked back at the note he had stuffed in one of his robe pockets and wondered to himself why he was keeping it. _It's the writing, _Harry thought, _It really is quite beautiful. _

Then the class ended and Harry walked over to his sleeping friends, rousing them for their next classes.

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. :)


	2. Forgetting

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone again who Reviewed, Favorited and put the story on Alert! Those emails make my heart swell with joy. Sorry about any mistakes you find. I am in dire need of a Beta so if you guys know of any good ones that are available, lemme know.

Enjoy!

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Draco was puzzled.

"She may have signed up with good intentions but her actions are severely lacking in the over-achiever category."

Did that mean Granger had joined the majority of the class in their opinion that Professor Binns' teaching style was, less than spectacular? Hmm. Maybe Gryffindors had more sense than Draco had given them credit for.

The young Slytherin had been pleasantly surprised to find a responding note on his desktop when he entered the classroom for another tedious History of Magic lesson that morning.

It wasn't that the subject itself was boring, it was the way Binns lectured the class in a monotone voice that lulled everyone into a coma like sleep. Actually, Draco was one of the small few who could stay awake during the classes. He had found that if you could block out the professors voice effectively, the course was really quite interesting.

Lately though, he hadn't been able to focus enough to do anything other than sleep. The war was over, school had resumed, and the Dark Lord was gone but still Draco couldn't sleep at night.

It wasn't the nightmares. There were spells for that and anyways, he hadn't had one for ages. It was the fact that no matter what he tried, he couldn't get that _mark_ off his arm. He couldn't forget what he had thought was a good cause. He couldn't forget all the whispered accusations in the halls. He couldn't forget the look on the face of the very first person he cursed, even if it was just a imperius curse. He couldn't forget the very first day back, when Potter, dutifully followed by his gaggle of apostles, walked up to him and handed him back his wand. He just couldn't forget.

~HPDM~

"Good work today students. Before you all gallop off to the Great Hall for lunch like the animals you are," Mcgonagall's voice rang out over the shuffling of papers and scratching of chairs being pushed back, "please hand in your homework due."

Apparently, Draco could forget.

He had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he had completely blown off doing his Tranfiguration homework.

He walked slowly towards the Professor's desk. Before he got there though, Pansy Parkinson brushed past him, handing him two sheets of paper in the process. The first was 'his' homework, and Draco had to admit; he was impressed. It was good, and she had even used words that sounded like him. The second peice was considerably smaller.

"You owe me." Was all it said.

Draco smiled. Although, he couldn't help but feel a little sad that Pansy's handwriting didn't match the messy scratches of the Histoy Note Sender. The boy's thoughts immediately reminded him that he hadn't written a sticky note back yet. After huriedly setting Pansy's work on Professor McGonagall's desk he started to briskly walk towards Binn's classroom. When he reached it though, he found he didn't want to quickly scribble a retort; he wanted to impress the writer with the lovely handwriting. A few moments later, the Slytherin decided he wanted to know more about who was sending these mysterious notes.

"_And what about you? " _He wanted to add more but he also realised he liked the secrecy of it all. He resolved to asking a personal question but not one to let him know who it was. Just yet.


	3. Friends

A/N:

This chapter drove me crazy! Actually, I wrote most of it at 3 AM so its quite short. Don't hate me!

Also, sorry it took me a while longer to update, school resumed this last week and I started another story. The summary is similar to this one but with more comedy&crudeness&such. Actually, **narbiglarb **gave me the idea.

(Go check her out. She makes me laugh.)

Don't worry though, Stuck On You is still my top priority. And so,

Onwards, my dear readers!

[Sorry for any mistakes.]

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_'And what about you? Do you actually enjoy the Fantastic Professor Binns?'_

Chapter 3

"What's that you've got there, Harry?" Asked Seamus, looking at him curiously.

Harry hadn't quite seen the sticky note that now had his attention when he first walked into his newly-turned favorite class. He had found it stuck to his books just as he left the classroom. He hadn't had any time to reply before Ron had pulled him hurriedly towards the Great Hall for Lunch. At the moment, said boy was stuffing his face with pastries.

Harry really didn't know how to answer Seamus' question so instead he decided on a non-commital noise and a small shrug.

"Well, whose it from?"

Harry looked up. This time Hermione had asked him the question, though she now had a quite distugested look on her face as she gazed upon Ron.

"Er, well.." Harry stammered, "I don't really know."

Before his friends could say any of the things they were thinking, a rather flushed looking Neville sat down next to Harry.

"Sorry I'm late, I tripped over Malfoy in the hall. What'd I miss?"

"Harry's got a secret admirer." Rang out a chorus of voices.

"_Another_ secret admirer," corrected Ron.

Harry felt his face warm slightly.

"I have not! This is only the second note I've recieved! All we've talked about is trivial things. It could be a boy for all I know."

"Talked about? So you've sent some back?" Hermione asked the same time Ron said;

"So? What would the problem be if it was a bloke?" At Harry's expression Ron continued, "Oh c'mon mate! We all know your secret. "

"And its _has_ been a strech since you were with anyone last." Dean Thomas piped in.

Harry sighed and put his head on the table with a considerably loud thud. Sometimes, his friends annoyed him to no end. But maybe they were right, it had been quite a while since he was interested in someone. Plus-with the way things were going now- he could really use a new friend, if that was all it turned out to be.

Before anyone could notice or read what he was writing, Harry swiftly and spontaneously wrote down a moderately flirty repsonse on a new sticky note.

_'Binns not so much. The course itself? Yeah, definately. And although this class is quickly becoming a preferred choice of mine, due to the attractive color of your stickies, I'd have to say the new division of Transfigurations is still favoured in my books.'_

~~HPDM~~

After leaving the Great Hall with a light excuse, the young Gryffindor walked slightly faster than average to the classroom where he would leave the note. Harry paused before returning to his friends. He wanted to add another line, something the person could respond to.

Then he remembered that the Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin was coming up soon.

'_Also, which team are you voting for in the upcoming Quidditch match? I know where I'd place _my_ money.'_

The brunette stuck the note on the top of his own counter and he was off.

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Thanks for all the lovely reviews. They make my heart shine.

:)


	4. Accidental Hints

**A/N: Holy Cows Jumping Through A Tiny Window, Getting Stuck And Then Giving Birth guys! You are all spectacular! I'm so sorry for being such a terrible updater. I'm going to try to update weekly, but don't hold me too strictly to that. School 'n crap takes priority.**

**This week the reason I'm late updating actually has nothing to do with school. I'll explain more at the end of the chapter. Thanks for being so awesome.**

**You have no idea how happy it made me to receive a bajillion emails containing all your delicious reviews, story alerts, and favorites!**

**So this chapter is for TipperAnnTaylor, FoxLover440&TheMozzyOne, whose comments made me do a little backflip in my bed out of pure joy.**

**AND AN ATROCIOUSLY BIG THANK-YOU TO MY FABTACULAR BETA NARBIGLRAB!**

**** I have this absolutely annoying hab****it of adding more to a chapter after having it edited so any mistakes you find are all mine.**

**Anyways, Enjoy!****  
**  
'_Binns, not so much. But the course itself, yes. And although this class is quickly becoming a preferred choice of mine, due to the lovely color of your stickies, I'd have to say the new division of Transfigurations is still favoured in my books. Also, which team are you voting for in the upcoming Quidditch match? I know who I'd place _my _money on.'_

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Chapter 4

Draco smiled at the small, muted silver colored sticky note. He wondered if the sender knew they had given away his or her's age by telling him their favorite class. The new division on Transfiguration was only available to Seventh and Eighth years. He knew that the

History Note Sender (as he, Blaise and Pansy had taken to calling whoever was behind the sticky notes) had asked about his House preferences of the Quidditch match in an attempt to find out more about him.

He couldn't blame the young witch or wizard, he supposed, as he wanted the same thing, but he _had _considered lying at first. In the end, pride (and the fact that Draco just could not stand saying anything nice about Hufflepuffs, even if it wasn't true), won out and he found himself writing the truth down.

_'Definitely Slytherin. No contest there. But if this game was against anyone other than Hufflepuffs, especially Gryffindor, I'd probably hold onto my money. Though I'd grumble and/or celebrate along with my other teammates depending on the score.'  
_  
The blonde didn't know why the little truth about Gryffindor had insisted on being written down. He guessed his mind was just being stubborn today. Even though he'd never admit it out loud, he actually _was_ nervous every time he had to face the team with Potter on it. The boy was a natural. He was Draco's only real competion on the Quidditch pitch; it was infuriating.

As were the notes. Malfoy didn't know what to think of them. If he knew who the sender was, maybe it would be easier, but the reality of it was that Draco didn't have a clue and as such, didn't know how to respond half the time. Should he not be responding at all? Should he be telling the sender to sod off? Should he try flirting?

The last thought was ridiculous, of course. Ever since the war, a very slim amount of the Slytherins actually talked to him outside of class and the rest of the school had always, and continued to, hate him, with the exception of Hufflepuffs, who were annoyingly accepting of everyone, and a few Ravenclaw's who respected his I.Q.

And although he grimaced when he thought of it, the Golden Trio had also changed their attitudes towards the young Malfoy. Not drastically, _thank Merlin!_, Draco didn't know if he could handle everything changing so dractically. There were just a few instances, here and there, where the Trio -more Potter than the other two, actually- had treated him as an average person, not their sworn enemy. Wether it be when the former Death Eater was in bad spirits;childlishly insulting them or when Draco was surrounded by insults himself, Potter and company had suddenly decided they held no grudge and helped him.

That didn't leave a large amount of people who didn't hex him every chance they got.

So why should he flirt with someone who had a higher chance of hating him than forgetting his past misjudgments?

Well, for starters, he didn't know who was receiving his notes, therefore, he didn't know the gender. He wouldn't want to lead the poor girl on. Although, it did strike Draco as a little odd that the first topic that the sender had mentioned was Quidditch. Wouldn't that usually indicate a boy? There definately wasn't a shortage of good-looking males in Hogwarts, and at least half were gay. The blonde chided himself for being sexist. A witch could be just as interested in Quidditch as a wizard. Draco's inner thoughts had sounded disturbingly like a mixture of Pansy and _Granger_. Anyways, he didn`t want to flirt with a boy, right?

Yet, despite his completely un-Slytherin-like insecurities,he found himself wanting to. Wanting to flirt with this mysterious Eighth year, wanting to convince whoever he -or she- was to forgive him, wanting to even just have some fun, as long as he could possibly make it last.

So with that last thought still prominent in his mind, Draco swiftly added another line to the sticky note, Tranfiguring it slightly to make his entire reply fit.

_'Definitely Slytherin. No contest there. But if this game was against anyone other than Hufflepuffs, especially Gryffindor, I'd probably hold onto my money. Though I'd grumble and/or celebrate along with my other teammates depending on the score.'_

_ 'I'm glad my color in stickies pleases you. To be truthful, I'm not sure what possesed me to buy them. The color has a memory attached to it, although, for the life of me, I can't remember what. The color is also less vibrant than the memory. Almost like the color of the chipped wall in the thirteenth shower.'_

~HP/DM~

Draco had put so much thought into his response that he didn't realise the two little hints he gave away about himself.

Harry did. And now he was _way_ too curious. After reading the note and accurately guessing that the responder was a member of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and apparently not a very confident member at that, along with being male he resolved to find out exactly who it was he was writing to. The latter realization was made after Ginny had informed him that the girls locker room only had ten showers.

That narrowed the possible candidates so much so that it spurred Harry into skipping class to see who it was. The fact that Draco Malfoy and he were the only Eigth years who tried out for the teams again didn't slip past him unnoticed.

Harry found himself walking toward his least favorite class for the second time that day, this time hidden under the Invisibility cloak, thinking of what he would say next, especially if it _was_ Malfoy. Should he reveal himself? Should he tease the blonde? Should he pretend not to know?

The Gryffindor unconciously took his bottom lip between his teeth, kneading it out of habit, while his mind wondered to the last meeting he'd had with the pale man. Harry had decided that he had kept his wand for far too long and tried returning it to him on many occasions. The first few, he had started towards Draco with determination, only to lose his nerve and wonder what he would he would say that wouldn't make him sound like a prat. After that, he only seemed to find the blonde when he was surrounded by young wizards who were throwing much undeserved insults. Automatically, he would step between them and shoo them away with a stern look but when he would go to complete his mission, the git would be nowhere in sight.

After hearing a particularly uncalled for insult about his mother, seeing the Malfoy heir's eyes flash but not do anything about it, and having his own 'fans' pestering him all bloody day, Harry had marched straight up to the confusingly changed man and all but shoved his wand into his hands. Harry had felt almost empty without it after but if the looks of complete relief and gratitude that flashed in Draco's eyes were anything to go by, it was worth it.

Even though the compulsion to immediately write another question on one of his dusty granite sticky notes had been strong, the idea of finding out who was reading it was greater.

Now he stood right outside the classroom door, heart pounding with wild hope that he would soon see a familiar crown of platinum. Harry slid silently through the coincidently ajar door into a class of his snoring pupils.

~HP/DM~

**A/N: **

**So, the reason I'm late: I'm working on another story. Even though this one takes priority, the other one is easier to write and is also a collaboration with the amazing ****Narbiglarb**** so I actually have someone nagging me to write. I'll be posting it very soon. Keep watch.**

**Also, big shout-out to **_**Nyte Lyes in Waiting**_** as her 'Favorite Story' alert reminded me to upload. **


	5. Invisibility Cloaks and Floating Notes

**A/N: So I guess I missed my deadline. Only by two days this time though! Woo! My Beta had som trouble getting back to me and it wasn't good enough for you to read otherwise. Really, she's specatacular. **

**Anyways, no info or anything this time, although, if you haven't started to read my other fic yet, DO SO! It's called Utterly Bamboozled I believe, and it is on my profile, obviously. **

**So, yeah, **

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 5

Draco was more than slightly disappointed when he couldn't find a note anywhere on or near his desk. Again. It had been three days since the Slytherin had seen one of the now familiar grey sticky notes waiting for him on his desk. He pouted and he set his books down with a bit too much force before shaking his head and grinning ruefully at his antics. When had the mysterious scratches and Sticky notes become a full-blown obsession?

He tried to focus on the lesson, he really did, but he couldn't concentrate due to the absence of a certain sticky piece of paper. It wasn't long before he started to wonder if he scared away the History Note Sender with his previous question.

Draco realised that if it was a male he was conversing with and he had interpreted the blonde's mistake, he would probably be utterly disgusted. Draco had been disgusted with himself the evening before when he realised he had let both his gender and house slip along with the fact that he was on the Quidditch team. The Slytherin had unwittingly narrowed down the possibilities of his own identity for the sender. He wondered if the sender had narrowed it down to him specifically and that was why he hadn't replied. Who'd want to talk to Draco Malfoy?

Strangely, he thought of Potter. He had been acting differently lately. After the war, he had no longer been the lively, trouble making child he always was. He, like so many others, had drawn into himself, thinking about the battle, the people that were lost and most importantly, how they were going to move on. But for the past week or so, Potter had been smiling more, even laughing with his friends again. But the biggest difference was Potter's attitude toward Draco himself. Whenever they passed in Hallways or caught each other's eyes from across the Great Hall, Potter would nod at him as if they were a slight form of friends instead of complete enemies like the last six years. And lately, Draco had found himself nodding back.

He smiled to himself as he remembered his random conversations, if you could call two or three words exchanged a conversation, that were seemingly becoming more and more frequent.

Suddenly, his books began to move. Draco stared, entranced, as they were shifted to make a small spot on the desktop visible. Before he could wonder how or why, his second question was answered. Right in front of his face was a silver sticky note. It hovered for a moment before settling down onto the spot on his desk that had just been cleared away. For a second Draco didn't move; he was too surprised. He had completely forgotten about the missing sticky notes; his thoughts focused on The Golden Boy. Speaking of the Scar Headed Wonder, could it be him? He was incredibly strong with his spells, when he put enough effort into them. And his wandless magic was pretty good, too; no, it was spectacular.

He shook his head as if to physically dispel thoughts of the Gryffindor out of his mind and directed his attention towards the sticky note.

__

'I know who you are.'

The five words made Draco's breath catch in his throat. What now? How was he to respond to that? The blonde stared at the words for what seemed to be forever but must have only been a few seconds. Were they starting to fade? Yes, yes they were fading! Draco reached out as if to keep the words there out of sheer willpower. As soon as his fingers touched the small piece of paper, the words' original contrast on the sticky flared back, but when he took them away, the words disappeared all together.

Experimentally, he touched the note again. The words were there once more.

He took out his own notes and quill before stopping suddenly. What would he write? He supposed he should write something snarky and condescending, now that they knew who he was. Keep up the reputation and all that.

He needn't've worried. Underneath the first five words, three new ones were showing up; letter by scrawling letter.

__

'You are beautiful'

For the second time in as many minutes, Draco stopped breathing.

Who the hell was this person? The question seemed to stir a thousand more in his brain and he picked up his quill in determination.

__

'Thank-you. I'd like to repay the compliment but unfortunately, you were a little more opaque on giving your identity away. Would you care to elaborate now?'

Draco picked up the grey sticky note before replacing it with his own emerald green one.

He was about to add more, thinking he would have to wait until the next day to receive a response as per usual, when yet another square of paper appeared in front of him. He squinted, surprised and picked the note out of the air, the words taking precedent over his lingering wonder of how or which spell someone had used to reply that fast.

__

'No. No, I don't think I will just at this moment. I'd like to have a few more days to stare oggle stalk observe you before you sex hex me into obvlivion.'

Draco didn't know whether to giggle or frown. Deciding the former would make him look a little like a Lockhart fan-girl, he moulded his face into the latter. He could not contain the small smile that touched his lips beforehand, though.

His mind instantly began to formulate a list of the people he would hex for just staring at him. Everyone did nowadays, stare at him that was, though the sender had indicated that his stares weren't the average stares of disgust or hate. The only person Draco had seriously thought of hexing –other than the small curses he would love to send way of some fellow Slytherins – was the prat who had taken it too far with one of his loathing comments and included his mother. But Potter had been there; he had stopped Draco from hurting the barely younger boy, but from the look of fear in his eyes, the blonde had guessed that Potter wasn't too pleased to hear his followers making such untrue statements. That day, Draco had been so surprised by the raven-haired boy's actions that he had felt a surge of..._fondness_ for the man. Draco had slipped around the corner quietly and then ran as fast as his lean, Quidditch toned legs could carry him to the Room of Requirments, where Draco had been staying since the begining of the year when the first of the Stinging- and soon after, Hurling Hexes- had started from the other Slytherins.

~HP/DM~

The smile that touched Malfoy's lips was one of pure amusement and Harry knew that he hadn't done nearly a good enough job of crossing out the words that had just demanded being written. He had just wanted to reply so fast.

The smile was suddenly replaced by a frown and Harry wanted to reach out and touch the lips as if to keep the expression on the blondes face by sheer willpower.

Harry was enthralled at the expressions that flitted over Malfoy's face when he didn't have his carefully crafted mask on. Draco was obviously lost in his thoughts and jumped slightly when a loud bell disrupted them.

A soft chuckle slipped out before Harry could think to stop it. He immediately threw his hand to his mouth to keep anymore sounds from escaping but the Slytherin's head had whipped around with suspicion nonetheless.

The Gryffindor let himself get caught in Malfoy's searching gaze. The platinum blonde hair combined with the striking bone structure and adorable,-er, no, peircing- silver eyes that somehow, impossibly held a thousand emotions at once made Draco absolutely perfect in Harry's mind.

Luckily his hand was still covering his mouth because Harry was sure if if wasn't for that and the fact he was wearing the Invisibility Cloak, he would have started gushing his romantic thoughts aloud and probably tried to snog the gorgeous man.

Fortunately, Draco seemed to classify Harry's mistake as nothing and started gathering up his things slowly, taking extra time to pick up his Sticky notes and scribble a reply quickly before striding confidently toward the door, heading for his next class.

Harry watched as the man of his desire sauntered out with a delicious swish of his hips before turning back to the desk and snatching up the green Sticky note with earnest.

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**A/N: Okay sorry, one last thing. **

**REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY. Like, 'just ate an entire bowl of Pasta Salad' happy. Also, the more creative ones inspire me to write faster. On that note, this chapter is dedicated to Nyte Lyes in Waiting, (Again) TheMozzyOne(Also again), FrenchRoseLake and Jensonluvsu. Thanks guys! **

**Hopefully next chapter will be out by Sunday! **


	6. Parchment

**A/N: AHHHHHHH. So I tried uploading this on Monday, only one day late, but my computer when all screwy and decided to boycott this story. Anyways, its here now. **

**And even though I'm lame, I still love reviews.**

**Anyways, longest chapter yet to make up for it. Finally hit the 2000 mark! **

**Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy! **

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Chapter 6

"So Harry, how's your boyfriend?"

Harry sighed. Again. His friends had been teasing him mercilessly since they had found out the sender of the notes had been male. They even gave him a title; Sticky Note Sender.

Of course, the name was an innuendo, but it reminded Harry of a muggle super hero, and he liked to think of Malfoy in brightly colored tights. He liked to think about Malfoy a lot, actually, and quite a bit of the time, he wasn't wearing any sort of clothing. Except for his tie, that is.

His friends would probably all die of either shock or laughing too hard if they knew it was Draco Malfoy that Harry kept daydreaming about.

Ron had almost caught him once, when he had been thinking about nothing in particular, just letting his quill slide over the parchment in random doodlings. But when he looked down and saw a very detailed drawing of Malfoy's face, Harry couldn't contain his noise of surprise. Ron, being the Gryffindor he was, had immediately looked over to see what was wrong. Harry had crumpled the paper up quickly and he didn't think Ron saw anything as he hadn't said anything yet but Harry coulnd't help wondering what the ginger-haired boy's reaction would be if he knew his best friend was flirting with the enemy.

~DM/HP~

How many times had Harry sighed that day? He should start a tally, he supposed, but there were just so many more interesting things to count.

Like the amount of times he ran into Malfoy in the halls. Or the amount of times he thought of looking into the Slytherin's eyes again,only without the cloak. Not to mention how many times Harry had wanked while thinking of the blonde. Harry sighed.

No, it would be much easier to count the sighs; they were the least common occurance.

At present, Harry sat alone in the Library, evading his friends' curious, and almost knowing in Ron's case, stares under the pretense of studying.

He really had planned on doing some homework at first. But then the man who occupied Harry's every waking thought had walked in, flanked by Blaise and Pansy, and every notion of studying had flown out the window.

Malfoy caught his eye and gave a slight, acknowledging nod before sliding gracefully into a chair at a table only a few down from Harry. He sat facing Harry so the Gryffindor gave a nod of his own back, coupled with a quickly flashed grin.

Surprisingly, Malfoy shot a small smile towards Harry in response.

Response. Oh fuck, the sticky note. Harry hadn't yet read the latest note Malfoy had left on the table. The note was much larger than any before it and somehow Malfoy had charmed it, effectively allowing himself to add more to the note at later times.

Harry had read the first sentence before stopping in a panic. It had been two days and he still could barely believe it was Malfoy he had been comunicating with. The Sticky Note Sender had replyed so carefree and teasingly while most of the time Malfoy walked around reserved and quiet. Although, he certainly hadn't lost any of his pride; he always held his head high, despite the looks people gave him.

Harry had taken to skipping quite a few of his classes to follow Malfoy with the Invisibility Cloak and leave him more Sticky Notes. Most of which mentioning some new thing Harry was discovering about the Slytherin. Like the fact that his hair looked like a halo in certain lights, or when his eyes lit up when talking about Quidditch or even how much Harry enjoyed seeing the smile that would touch his lips when he was reading the grey notes.

Harry tried to focus on studying again, but the damn note kept floating into his mind. The fact that its owner sat only a few tables away, looking far too delicious and relaxed for Harry's liking, did nothing to help. He decided it wouldn't hurt to read it, at least.

Transfiguring it to look like a normal sheet of parchment so as to not give away his identity to Malfoy, should he look over, Harry set the note gingerly on top of his books.

_'History Note Sender,  
(I won't take credit for such an idiotic idea, so I'll have you know that the name was Pansy's idea.) Alright, so you know who I am, but I'm at a slight disadvantage. Since you won't tell me who you are, I'll have to guess. I'm assuming you're a bloke, considering you figured out that _I_ was due to my mistake about the locker rooms. Which also means you're on a Quidditch team. I also know that you're an Eigth Year, because of your favorite class. (By the way, did you figure out the homework McGonagall assigned? I'm hopeless at Division 2 Trans.) So that leaves me with three Hufflepuffs, one Ravenclaw and two Gryffindors. I sincerly apologize if you are a Hufflepuff, as I only know the name of one of the boys on that team and I doubt we would work out. I do appreciate your thoughts on my appearance, though. If you aren't a Hufflepuff it means you're either a) Micheal Corner b) Ron Weasley or c) Harry Potter himself. If you are none of these choices, please let me know so I can rethink my opinions on my sluething abilities. It would also be helpful so I can stop staring at these three continuously. I suspect its getting weird. And its terrible watching Weasley eat; you'd assume he was never fed in his life. Thank you,  
Draco Malfoy.'_ _  
_  
Harry's mind was racing. Malfoy was close, seriously close, to finding out who he was. Did Harry want that?

No, of course not. Just because they had a very tentitive... acquaintanceship, friendship? going on didn't mean Malfoy was going to be okay with his mortal enemy calling him beautiful.

That was another thing; Malfoy didn't seem very upset by the fact his admirer was male. Did that mean Malfoy was _gay_? If so, how had he kept it under wraps for so long? Surely that would be gossipworthy news? Harry was sure the only reason his secret hadn't made it to the _Daily Profit_ yet was because everyone that knew were either Gryffindors or very close Hufflepuffs.

If anyone ever slipped, Harry shuddered. Well, he was glad to know it was his last year at Hogwarts. Soon he could escape to the Muggle world whenever he felt the need to disapear from the public's eye.

Apparently, the Slytherins were closer than Harry thought. However, it was more likely that they were afraid of what Malfoy would do to them if any sort of secret was leaked. Harry, though, was personally more frightened by the aspect of Parkinson coming after him than Draco.

Harry's eyes flicked up to study said Slytherin Prince. The young man was bent over his books, his quill moving frantically across his paper until, as if called by the Gryffindor's stare, his gaze snapped up to meet Harry's.

~DM/HP~

Draco finally blinked, his hand unconsciously moving to cover the drawing of the man whose eyes he was lost in. The gorgeous green pools of amazing adorableness held his gaze, unwaveringly. That is, until Draco snorted.  
_Gorgeous green pools of amazing adorableness? Really? Seriously?_ His inner voice sounded definately Pansy-like, but with good reason. When had he ever used any of those words in describing Potter before? Draco had narrowed down the possibilities of who the History Note Sender could be and apparently the mere aspect of Potter calling him beautiful messed with Draco's mind.

Potter looked sharply away; was that a blush creeping up his neck? Surely not; Our Great Saviour doesn't blush.

As much as Draco was happy that Potter had looked away first, for he wasn't sure he ever would have, he was also quite disappointed. He had been trying to find something to tell him it had been Potter writing the sticky notes, that Potter was the man behind the compliments, that his dreams about the raven-haired man had not been misleading.

Draco peered down at his drawing again. Damn. The nose still wasn't right, but he didn't want to chance getting caught staring at Potter again.

Instead he neatly folded the paper and stuck it gently inside his robes. Draco didn't look up again until Blaise cleared his throat.

"Potter," Draco questionly acknowledged the slightly nervous, fully adorable boy standing in front of him.

"Er, the game is about to start. I know the Slytherin's always go to the pitch early so you might want to get a move on." There was a slim mocking tone to Potter's words.

Draco quickly cast a _Tempus_.

"Oh, shit, you're right! Thanks." Turning back towards his table, Draco began to quickly gather his belongings. Once he was finished he stood, only to hit a wall of flesh when he turned around.

Potter steadied him. "Sorry, just thought it'd make more sense to walk to the pitch together."

Draco wasn't sure, but he was fairly certain that he nodded. He wasn't really focussing on replying, but rather on the way Potter's glasses had moved down his nose and how much Draco wanted to push them back to their right place.

Potter flicked his gaze towards Draco's cohorts. "Aren't you on the team, Zabini?"

Blaise was startled by the question, but Draco was sure he was the only one who could tell.

"Not since Sixth Year. I'm more of a sit and barely cheer type."

"Good-luck, Potter," Pansy chimed in, not looking up from her intense study of her nails. "You're going to need it this time. Draco's playing to impress today."

Blaise snorted and Draco gave them both his best glare. Sighing, he turned his back on his friends and started walking beside the Gryffindor.

"Come on, Potter. Let's go before my supossed 'friends' give away all my secrets."

"Hmm, I'm not sure which is more appealing; learning all of Draco Malfoy's secrets or beating his arse in a great game of Quidditch."

Draco smirked. "Beware, Mr. Chosen One, Pansy wasn't joking in the regard that I'm going to play extra hard today. Plus, we don't have to be playing Quidditch for you to beat my arse." Draco winked, hoping to see a real blush cover the young man's face, but he was disapointed.

Potter laughed aloud and Draco's steps faltered for a moment at the sound. "Now _that'd_ be something to bet on. 'Who could bed the famous Malfoy heir faster, Harry Potter or _that_ young witch over there?' Who, for your information, is practically fucking you with her eyes."

Draco looked calmly around the hallway, spotting the young, Ravenclaw girl within seconds. He chuckled, "I think she's just boggled to see us walking beside each other, not escorted by a teacher or hexing each other into oblivion."

Potter was silent for a little too long. Draco looked over in concern, wondering if he had said something to upset the Gryffindor. Surprisingly, Potter had a smirk on his face again.

"I can fix that," he mummered.

Before Draco could respond, he felt the small jolt that comes from a Stinging Hex on his lower back.

The blonde's eyes windended comically before narrowing into playful slits. "Oh, it's on, Scarhead."

Potter laughed again before taking off down the Hallway, heading towards the Quidditch Pitch. "Bring it, Ferret."

Despite the words they were using, both of the boys' tones were teasing and playful.

~DM/HP~

Gratefully accepting Potter's hand, Draco decided the Gryffindor had definately been Sorted into the wrong House; some of those Hexes were extremely cunning and Slytherin-like.

"Now, we've had our share of fights, but I think this has been, by far, the most entertaining." Harry smiled as he squeezed Malfoy's hand before turning and disappearing into the Gryffindor changing room.

Shaking his head and squinting his eyes against the sun, Draco moved to his own House's locker room door, wiping the ridiculously happy smile off his face at the last moment.

Unbeknownst to the boys, a couple of Slytherin fans and three elder Gryffindors had shown up early to the match and had witnessed an actual moment of comradeship between _the _Harry Potter and _the _Draco Malfoy. This was certainly going to be an interesting match.

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**A/N: Hehe, that was super fun to write, but I suspect the next chapter is going to be better. So yeah, Quidditch Match next, woo!**

**And now time for the dedications: ALL OF YOU! No, for cereal. You are all awesome! **

**But, invisiblelace (and her awesome bribes), ****ayjayssis (****and her accidental shoutings), Miss MP (because _you_ made _me_ smile), TheMozzyOne (DECENT UPDATE TIME!),donttouchmykyoya818,alltheangelsinheaven & Finally Lunacy Scarletsky (for just being awesome); Your reviews made me supersmile. **

**And of course, The BEST Beta in the WORRLD: **_**NARBIGLARB**_**! Without whom, I would be nothing.**


	7. Locker Room Support

**A/N: Look, it's Sunday! _WHAAAAAAAAT?_ I know. **

**But don't get used to the frequent updates. It'll probably be another week, week and a half, before the next chapter pops up. **

**Anyways, Enjoy!**

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Chapter 7

Harry was already enthusiastic after his jaunt with Malfoy, and as soon as he walked into the locker room his teams' exuberance filled him as well. Surprisingly only two girls had made the team that year and even more surprisingly, they were both sick. Their replacements chatted quietly off to the side, excited for their first real game of the season.

_This was going to be a fun game,_ he thought happily albeit slightly nervously, before Ron called him over to make the traditional inspiring speech.

Harry had been offered the title of Captain, but mostly out of respect and awe from the other players. After all, he had defeated Voldemort not even a year ago. But Harry declined; he knew the real captain would always be Ron. The rest of the team cheerfully, and unanimously, agreed that the eldest ginger Gryffindor was the best choice for the job.

After the speech, Harry quickly joined his fellow members in uniform and went to stand beside Ron, who was at the door, listening to the gathering crowd.

"Ready mate?"

"Definitely," Ron said, shooting him a grin, "We've won both our other games so far and I have a good feeling about today."

"But this is our first game against Slytherin."

"So? The lot of them best be ready to cry into each other's arms when they lose."

Harry snorted, pumped for the game once more.

"Although," Ron turned to face his friend with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "With the way you've been acting lately, you might be the one comforting Malfoy."

Harry gaped. When had Ron become so perceptive?

"I'm your best friend mate; I notice things." Ron explained, only encouraging Harry's stray thought that maybe Ron had somehow become a Legilimens over the summer without his noticing.

The shock wore off and Harry laughed aloud, drawing the looks of a few other players.

"Can always count on you, right mate? I guess Hermione knows too?"

Ron looked smug, "Actually no. I don't think she's figured it out yet. Unless she reckoned I might have a bad reaction to the news and decided it would be better coming from you. Don't know why she'd think that. You're my best mate and I stuck by you this long, I'm not just going to desert you now because you seem to have developed a crush on Malfoy. Even if I find it completely irrational and even if it _is_ _Malfoy_."

Harry felt a feeling of affection for his best friend swell and he fought to crush it before he said something absurdly _Hufflepuff-y._ Instead he decided for a nice swing at the ginger's shoulder.

"Could you not say that so loud? Pretty sure the whole school doesn't know yet, unless I was _extremely_ obvious, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Ron just laughed and rubbed his arm.

"Oi! Don't be hurtin' our Keeper now, Harry. We're gunna need him today if what I heard about Malfoy was true. Apparently the git's been practicing over the summer and did you _see_ that move he pulled off in their last match against Ravenclaw? Best be on your toes, or he could beat even _you_ today, Mr. Youngest Seeker In The World." It was Seamus who had shouted from across the room. Harry held up two fingers in a rude but joking gesture and the team around them laughed.

Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, you ready to prove your worth?"

"You guys really are the most supportive friends." Harry replied dryly.

As they got in position to leave the locker room, the last comment Harry heard was from Dean, eager and loud.

"LET'S GO KICK SOME SLYTHERIN ARSE!"

~HP/DM~

Draco rolled his eyes as he heard one of the Gryffindor's yell something akin to "Let's go kick some slithering carts!" through the thin walls.

_Eloquent, _came his sarcastic thought.

Sometimes he wondered how Granger had been Sorted into a house full of testosterone and stupidity.

Thinking of Granger led Draco's thoughts back to the seemingly ever-present man of his thoughts. Harry Potter.

He had been constantly thinking of the boy and every time he took out his sticky notes, the green color instantly sent his mind to the memories of Harry's deep emerald eyes, despite the two other possibilities that could be his History Note Sender.

But no amount of hope on his part could really convince Draco that it was Potter. The man he was talking to in the notes knew who he was, commented on his beauty, and made him blush constantly. Potter would never behave like that towards the blonde without an Unforgivable enforcing his actions.

Draco had heard numerous stories of the Saviour and his many sexcapades with girls (and several boys) in all of the Houses. Naturally, he realised they couldn't _all_ be true but there had to be at least one truth hidden among the silly rumours.

Well, Draco did know one rumour that was definitely true and it was beyond his reasoning as to why he hadn't told anyone yet.

The Weaselette had given up on her hopeless chase after a particularly secretive meeting with Potter at the beginning of the year that Draco had accidently and shockingly happened across.

Harry had dragged his almost girlfriend into a tight alcove, much to her delight. Draco had stumbled across them, an apology almost spilling from his lips before he realised who the couple were and that they were in fact, _not_ snogging the life out of each other. In reality, Potter had looked disgusted and the Weaselette had looked both devastated and understanding. Draco had done the obvious thing that any self-respecting Slytherin would have done in his position; cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and moved closer to hear the heated words better.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked and Harry started nodding before she had even finished. Her eyes flashed determinedly and she reached up to grab Potter's chin firmly. He didn't even resist; it was as if he knew what was coming. He had even looked slightly hopeful, as if the following motion actually _could_ change whatever was plaguing the boy.

The girl rose slowly onto the tips of her toes and her eyes fluttered closed. She moved her face forward until her lips gently touched the raven-haired boys. He stood completely still and Draco wondered if he was breathing. After a minute or so the Weaselette dropped back down but looked questioningly up at Potter. The boy shook his head in disgust once more and Draco realised the disgust was aimed at himself.

"I'm sorry Gin, nothing. That does it, if _you_ can't do it for me, it's official." He took a deep breath and Draco barely heard the two, very resolute words form when the breath was let out.

"I'm gay."

The girl shrugged. "It's okay, Harry. No one is going to judge you, and if they do, I'll hex all their hair to grow in a very different place than what they're used to."

Potter's shoulders relaxed slightly and he snorted.

"Wonder how your brother will take it," He murmured.

"I almost hope he reacts badly just so I can have an excuse to Jinx him into oblivion."

Someone jostled Draco out of his reverie and he looked over to see Blaise giving him a concerned look. Draco flashed him a grin.

"What're you doing here, Blaise? The games about to start."

"Just wanted to make sure Potter didn't murder you on the way down here." He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Or snog your face off," but Draco chose to ignore the absurd thought in favour for a very expressive snort.

Sometimes he thought the boy should've been Sorted into Hufflepuff, what with all the emotion he showed for his friends. Then he remembered the dark-skinned boy's latest prank and reconsidered once again.

"Well, as you can see, I'm fine. You can go back to the stands to watch with Pansy as I beat Potter's arse and stare unabashedly at my _own_ arse like I know you want to."

It was Blaise's turn to snort. "'Course, your Majesty. Good-luck." He pushed at the door before turning around, lowering his voice conspiringly and throwing Draco a wink.

"Oh and Draco dear, do try to refrain from gawking at the Chosen One's gorgeous eyes long enough to catch the snitch this time around, alright?"

* * *

**A/N: So no Quidditch this time, sorry. *Runs away to hide***

**Special Mentions: **

**Elza: ****Since I couldn't respond to your Review in a message, I thought I'd do it here. I'm glad you're liking the fic and while your request is a fantastic one, I don't think I could do it without butchering the scene. **

**Miss MP:**** Sorry to dissapoint about the Quidditch but I _did_ update super quick. **

**Sarky Soomka because your review made me smile. **

**Lunacy Skarletsky**** because of your impecible timing. ;)**

**And Narbiglarb, who is awesomeness in a bag. Thanks hun!**


	8. You Win Some, You Lose Some

**A/N: So because it's been TWO WHOLE WEEKS since I gave you lovelies a chapter, I thought I'd give you two! The next one should be popping up sometime soon. **

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 8

Harry's breath was even, his chest rising and falling calmly. He looked completely at ease, in his element. He was slowly surveying the scene beneath him – Gryffindor was currently winning –, his trained eyes careful not to miss any sign of the golden ball he was to be chasing. He was entirely focused on his task, which was why Draco felt so comfortable staring at the dark haired boy unabashedly.

As Harry's eyes lit up, Draco grudgingly tore his eyes away to follow his line of sight, expecting to have to race off excitingly after the Snitch. In place of the glint of gold he assumed he'd see was a pair of boys, kissing madly on their broomsticks. Thomas and Finnegan were locked in an awkward, yet intense embrace; the way in which they clung to each other seemed dangerous and it was a wonder that neither of them fell to their death. Although, Draco was sure the more likely cause of their demise was going to be suffocation.

Draco, who was slightly surprised at seeing such an open act of lust, turned back towards Harry, only to find himself being watched through amused eyes.

"Likin' what you see, Draco?" Harry called out as he glided closer to the Slytherin.

A loud voice interrupted what Draco was going to say. "Ten, no twenty more points to Gryffindor! That brings the tally to 140 for Gryffindor and 20 for Slytherin. And still no sign of the Snitch! What are our Seekers doing up there?"

Draco cringed when he heard the score. It was the first Slytherin/Gryffindor match since school had started that year and most of the Eighth Years hadn't wanted to be on the team. They had only won their first two matches because Draco was a more experienced flyer than either of the seekers from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. But now, he faced Potter. Freakin' _Potter_ and he wasn't sure he could beat him. He thought back to the third, (or was it the fourth? No it was definitely the third) note he had received asking about the Match he had against the Puffs and how he had answered it.

_'Also, which team are you voting for in the upcoming Quidditch match? I know who I'd place _my _money on.'_

'_Definitely Slytherin. No contest there. But if this game was against anyone other than Hufflepuffs, especially Gryffindor, I'd probably_ _hold onto my money.'_

He'd spoken the truth then; he would never bet against Potter and his sizable good luck. Even when it was he, Draco Malfoy, who was facing The Mighty Gryffindor.

Of course, such things would never be spoken aloud.

Potter had turned back to the Match after hearing the announcement and Draco swivelled his neck, looking for any sign on the tiny ball he would need to catch in order to win the game.

And suddenly, as if it were called by his thoughts, there it was. He'd seen the Snitch. And he could tell Potter hadn't spotted it yet; he had a small advantage that he greatly needed.

He sped off after the Snitch, desperately seeking to keep as much distance between Potter and the Snitch as possible.

He followed the Snitch around a Gryffindor filled stand and knew Potter had finally caught on when the roar of the crowd intensified.

The Snitch took them upwards, then to the right, back towards the ground, up again, to the left, right, up, down, up, right, and left, higher, higher, higher, and higher still! Potter was beside him the entire way; Draco could feel his presence, but he dared not look away from the gold object in fear of losing it once again.

When the boys were finally high enough for the clouds to block their view of below, the Snitch stopped.

Harry, panting, stopped with it. He didn't chase it, just sat there hovering, recovering his breath. That fact, along with the image of Potter with small beads of sweat running down his face, along his neck and into his Quidditch uniform, made Draco pause as well.

~DM/HP~

Harry looked away from the Snitch and caught Malfoy's eye. The other seeker's breath was slightly laboured and he looked exhausted, but there was delight sparkling in his eyes.

_He really loves this_, Harry thought with an internal smile.

He gave a small laugh at the plan that was forming in his head which Draco echoed and at that moment, Harry knew that he would forever have the image of Draco Malfoy with his stunning blonde hair glinting in the sun and a genuine smile on his parted lips, _laughing_, with _Harry_ imprinted in his memories.

Why people ever called _him_ 'The Golden Boy' when Draco was alive suddenly baffled Harry.

Then another flash of gold took Harry's attention off the god beside him and his instincts sent him flying downward.

He was mere feet away from the Snitch but Malfoy was right beside him, his long fingers brushing against Harry's somewhat in his attempt to grab the Snitch and end the game.

The Snitch swerved upwards again and Harry pulled out of his dive to follow. Malfoy was just as good as Harry at flying, but his broom was new; he hadn't yet broken it in completely and consequently pulled up a few seconds later.

The Snitch flew down once more and Harry tried to continue following it, but the rapid succession of movements forced his broom to start wobbling. He knew what was coming. He reached out his arm while also opening his mouth to yell _something_ to _someone_.

"Draco!" was all he managed before he started tumbling downwards, the ground getting closer all the while.

He tried dreadfully hard to keep his eyes open but the force of the wind hitting his face required them to shut, blocking the image of where Harry would die from his sight.

He had been a long way up when he fell so he had a few moments for his thoughts. Thoughts of Ron and Hermione were the most predominate but other faces occupied his mind as well. George's first smile after Fred died, the way little Teddy's eyes lit up when Harry had given him a toy broom, Ginny's look of fierce love when he told her he was gay, and not very surprisingly, considering it had just happened and Harry had been stalking the man for weeks, Draco's face, smiling, laughing as if he didn't have a care in the world when he was near Harry. Seeing that, it didn't matter that he'd defeated Voldemort, a giant snake, Voldemort, lost his godfather, seen Dumbledore murdered, and killed Voldemort, only to die playing Quidditch.

He just hoped that he wouldn't make too much of a mess; it wouldn't do to scare the younger children away from the sport he himself took so much pleasure from. He was considering casting a Disillusionment charm when he felt all of the weight leave his body and a strong force on his left bicep. He was no longer falling. Instead he was being hauled easily up onto a broom in front of another body. Hesitantly he tried opening his eyes only to find the wind pushing at them a second time. His weight had returned and he was sinking quickly once more, this time taking his saviour with him.

He felt a hand clasp around his as his rescuer tried in vain to keep them both in the air, but Harry knew it was too late; they were going down, and going down fast. Luckily, he had time enough to grab his wand. He pointed it in the general direction of _ground,_ hoping to Godric that no one was in the way.

"_SPONGIFY!"_

Seconds later, he felt himself being thrown on top of someone else's body before they both landed on the ground, surprisingly exactly in the spot Harry's spell had hit. They bounced slightly and Harry realised the person who had tried to help him was male.

He opened his eyes to see a very squished looking Malfoy.

"Unbelievable," Malfoy muttered breathlessly, "you fall hundreds of meters to your – almost – death, and you still manage to look concerned for someone else."

Harry's brow furrowed, "Are you alright? Why'd you do that? How'd you catch me? Give me your hand."

~HP/DM~

Draco sighed before Harry was even done.

"Yes, I'm fine. I couldn't very well let the Chosen One die, could I? Besides, it was just instinct. In case you didn't notice Potter, I _didn't_ catch you. We almost died, remember? And finally, what?"

In place of an answer, Potter grabbed Draco's wrist, shoved something in his hand and closed his fist around it. Before Draco could register what it was, Potter was hauling him to his feet. When Draco was standing upright Harry hoisted his arm high in the air.

"Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Seeker, has caught the Snitch, as well as saved _Harry Potter!_" came the loud voice again.

There was a shocked moment of silence before the entire Pitch erupted in huge cheers. Draco was barely even paying attention. He was focused solely on Harry who had started to sway, looking as though he would pass out.

Draco caught him just as he fell and lowered him slowly back to the ground. He took out his wand, the very wand Harry had returned to Draco earlier that year, and held it to his throat.

"If everyone is finished celebrating the fact that you won't have to worry about me staying up late and stalking helpless kittens anymore, I think our famous Scarhead could use some seeing to."

He moved Harry gently from his lap to the soft ground, wondering why nobody had come to help yet. When he looked up, he realised the problem. Harry's spell hadn't hit just a small target; it had made the _entire_ Quidditch Pitch have the texture of a giant pillow. No wonder the boy had passed out.

Draco could see Madam Pomfrey, along with a few other professors, trying to make their way across the bouncy surface. Their inability to do so made Draco snort. He heard a chuckle coming from beneath him and when he looked down, Harry had awoken and was now giggling uncontrollably.

Draco let out his breath in a sigh of relief and started snickering himself. Soon he was on the ground with Potter and, by the time the professors arrived at the scene, the two boys were practically rolling on the ground, hands clutching their stomachs from their shared laughter. It didn't help whatsoever when Madam Pomfrey leaned down to check both boys foreheads and shifted her weight a tad too much to the left. She began to fall and, in an attempt to right herself, started to wave her arms madly.

The rival Seekers were still wiping their tears away by the time their concerned friends arrived at the Hospital Wing.

**

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**

Dedications:

**EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! Yes, Everyone! Seriously guys. I was going through my reviews, trying to pick the best ones to dedicate to AND THEY WERE ALL SPECTACULAR! I literally couldn't choose. So thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're all way too good to me. **

**Hope you liked it. Review dears!**


	9. First Time Heros

**A/N: Because life took over for a while, here's ANOTHER chapter. **

**Enjoy!**

**

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Chapter 9

"Five minutes." Madam Pomfrey warned the group that had just burst through the doors sharply.

Immediately Harry was surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors while Blaise and Pansy walked calmly over to Draco's bed.

"Oh, Blaisey, look! It's The Saviour of Our Saviour!" Pansy said mockingly, coming to a stop in front of Draco, blocking his view of Potter's bed.

"Oh yes, you've already got a nickname!" Blaise stated after catching Draco's confused look. "That was some move out there Dray."

"Saving Potter? Please, I just didn't need to give everyone another reason to hex me. You know they'd accuse me of intentionally letting him fall, or even charming his broom if I didn't save him."

"So it wasn't because he could possibly be the one giving you extremely mushy love notes? Or the fact that he's the man of your dreams?"

Draco scoffed. "The 'man of my dreams'? Get real Pans; I hated the guy until this year. And I'm still getting used to the whole 'polite acquaintances' thing." Draco faintly heard Granger yelling at Potter about his recklessness. "Just because he isn't a complete wanker anymore doesn't mean I don't think his hair is atrocious, his glasses ridiculous and _how in the world does he put up with her screeching?_"

Blaise and Pansy shared a very Slytherin grin before schooling their features until something akin to belief showed on their faces.

"I think she just said something about how he intentionally fell or something else, utterly absurd."

~HP/DM~

"Hermione" Harry hissed, "Keep your voice down!"

But it was too late; Malfoy was already hopping angrily off his bed and marching gracefully over to Harry's.

"YOU FELL ON PURPOSE?" Draco's face was full of incredulity and confusion.

Harry opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Madame Pomfrey's stern voice telling his friends to go to the Great Hall for dinner.

Hermione gave Harry an almost apologetic face while Ron just turned away with what seemed like a smirk.

"Stop with the faces Ms. Granger, Ms. Parkinson. And get out of my infirmary. I have patients to treat. Out!"

Harry watched his friend pile out with a bemused expression that slid right on his face when he turned back to see a very angry looking Draco still standing near his bed.

"Did. You. Fall. On. Purpose?" Malfoy pronounced each word through clenched teeth.

"Well, not exactly. Sort of. Yes." All of the anger left Malfoy's body as soon as Harry had spoken.

"Why?"

"I-." he paused.

"Spit it out."

"N-no reason."

"Potter!"

"Seriously Malfoy! Drop it." Everyone was okay and his plan had already begun to work. Why couldn't Malfoy just leave it alone.

It was a few moment before Malfoy spke again and when he did his voice was dangerously calm.

"Why did you fall, Harry?" The use of his first name coupled with Malfoy's tone was what broke him.

"I don't like the way people treat you." Draco's look of incredulity returned.

"_What?" _Out of everything Harry could have said, this was right behind 'because I'm in love with the Giant Squid and would do anything for it' on Draco's unexpected list.

"You- you helped during the War, and nobody recognizes that. You've changed so much but everybody just clings onto the past. I was tired of seeing you secretly protect the same students who insult you daily. I was disgusted at how noble and smart and kind people claim to be when they're all just hypocrites. I was tired of being the one in the spotlight all the time."

Draco was bewildered.

"Potter," He spoke slowly, "You do realise you could have _died_?"

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had time to think. "I knew you wouldn't have let me fall." Harry gave Malfoy a slight grin.

Draco felt his lips twitching and rolled his eyes. "It was purely instinct, Potter. You looked like a helpless puppy, _calling my name._"

Harry was surprised at Malfoy's teasing tone. "Instinct? Ha! You just couldn't resist touching me."

"I thought this whole experience was to get people to like me, not to make your exceptionally large head even bigger."

"Hey! My head is _not_ large. This damn hair just makes it appear so."

Draco started to laugh when something dawned on him.

"Wait! Is that why you gave me the Snitch too? To get people off my back? Thanks _Potter_ but I'd rather win on my _own_. Contrary to popular belief, Malfoy's do not cheat."

The sneer that Harry hadn't seen in months was back and he rushed to mke it dissapear once more. "No! Of course not! I gave it to you because it was rightfully yours. You practically had it in your hands before I fell. And you would've won if you hadn't saved me. Speaking of winning, do you know what the score was?"

"No, I was too busy throwing a Gryffindor on top of me to see how bad my team lost."

"'Throwing a Gryffindor on top of you?' Better not let anyone else hear you say that. Out of context, they might get the wrong impression." Harry winked. "Besides, I don't think Slytherin lost, you caught the Snitch, remember. You must've beaten us. "

"But Gryffindor was so far ahead!"

"What are you too arguing about now?" Madame Pomfrey was walking towards the seekers holding two small bottles in her hands; the only difference between them was the color. One was a bright green color while the other was white with a tinge of purple. Neither looked very appealing.

"We were just wondering who won the game."

"Oh, well I think that's still being decided."

"What? Why?" It never took this long, even with a few injuries.

"Well because Madame Hooch had to look up the Rulebook, of course."

The blonde was getting frustrated, and, in order to prevent Malfoy's I'm-always-right-so-shut-up-before-I-hex-you Mode from turning on full blast, Harry stepped in.

"Er, Madame Pomfrey, why would she have to do that?"

"Well, there hasn't been a tie in years! Surely you boys haven't ever seen one."

"A tie?"

"Yes, yes a tie. When Mr. Malfoy here caught the Snitch, it brought the score up to match Gryffindors. This, of course, hasn't ever happened at Hogwarts before so now Headmaster McGonagall has to look for similar instances for a ruling. Now, enough about Quidditch; time for some healing. You must be exhausted. Here, Malfoy into the bed next to Potters. And drink this." She handed Draco the purple concoction. "Just something to help with the bruising, Mr. Potter fell on you pretty hard." She handed Harry the green potion with a murmured, "Don't worry it tastes a lot worse than it looks. It's to restore your energy from using all that magic,*" before gliding away to help other patients.

Draco shared a look of disgust at the potions with Potter before sighing and angling his head to drink. Potter's soft voice reached his ears before he could.

"Thanks Draco."

Draco looked over to meet Potter's eyes and found nothing but sincerity there. Then the Gryffindor was gulping down the green liquid and spluttering.

"That was vile!"

"Good to know. Makes me so much more excited to drink mine."

Malfoy brought the small bottle to his lips and Harry followed the movement with his eyes. He tipped his head back, revealing a long, pale neck and swallowed his potion elegantly.

Draco licked his lips. "Yum. Tasted like cherries," He lied. It hadn't tasted of anything at all, except for maybe a slight hint of tree bark.

* * *

**Terrible place to end it but on the plus side, I now have half on Chapter 10 finished and will most definately NOT miss next Sunday's deadline. :D**

**_Note to the readers from Narbiglarb_: Am I the only one who is jealous of the Canadian spellings?**

**GUESS WHAT? TOMORROW IS THIS LOVELY GIRL'S^^ BIRTHDAY! YOU NEED TO GO GIVE HER SOME MUCH DESERVED LOVE. RIGHT. NOW! I don't care how you do it, but you need to. :D You can even say I sent you, if need be. **

**Thanks babies!**

**Dedications: ****mybeautifulmuffindevil.**** You are awesome. **


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